The Plane Tickets He Hoarded The Wife He Hid novel Chapter 304

304 Chapter 304 A Hundred

Different Ways

Blanche’s POV

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Vincent collapsed against me, his full weight pressing down as he shut his eyes and buried his face in my shoulder. Each breath he took was deep and

deliberate, the warm air hitting my ear and making my skin break out in goosebumps.

I was practically naked–my shirt barely pulled on, my entire torso exposed. I hadn’t even gotten my bra back

on yet.

Instinctively, I hunched forward, wrapping my arms around myself, trying desperately to cover what I

could.

Vincent kept his hands locked together across my stomach, not wandering anywhere else.

My body turned to stone. I didn’t dare fight him.

One wrong move and he’d see everything.

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But then his breathing shifted, getting slower and

deeper as sleep started to take him. The soft sound of him drifting off filled my ear.

I froze completely, not knowing what to do. Moving even slightly felt impossible.

Still, under his weight, I couldn’t help the tiny shiver that ran through me.

Vincent’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot and wild.

He rubbed his cheek against mine, his voice coming out gravelly and low. “God, you smell amazing—like those dangerous flowers that make you lose your mind.”

Seeing he was awake, I tried pushing him back, my voice shaking. “Vincent, please let me go.”

Instead of releasing me, his arms tightened around me. “Hell no. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

His grip stayed firm while his fingertips started tracing circles around my belly button.

Lightning shot through me, every nerve ending sparking as I tried shoving him away. “Vincent, stop

this.”

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My skin was soft and warm under his touch, my upper body completely bare.

Vincent wore his black coat and shirt, but even through the thin material, my heat seeped into him, making his whole body go rigid.

He was massive compared to me, and when he pulled me into his arms, I disappeared completely into his

embrace.

He turned his head, deliberately brushing his lips across my earlobe, sometimes catching the delicate skin between his teeth. His hot breath slid into my ear like a serpent’s tongue, making me tremble

uncontrollably.

Electricity raced through my entire body as I tried pushing Vincent away again. “Vincent, don’t.”

But the moment I spoke, my voice betrayed me–thick with want I couldn’t hide.

Vincent nearly lost it at my tone. His hand started sliding up from my stomach, desperate to reach

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somewhere more intimate.

But I pressed my hands firmly between us, blocking his eager fingers from going any higher.

My voice came out pleading and desperate. “Vincent, I’m still married. Please, don’t.”

Vincent’s hand stopped moving upward. He turned and kissed my cheek, then gave that cocky laugh of his. “So what, Blanche—after your divorce, you’ll really

be mine?”

My voice was quiet but steady. “No.”

Vincent chuckled, low and rough, not even slightly bothered. He leaned closer, his lips almost touching my ear as he whispered, “Once that divorce is final, I’ve got a hundred different ways to make you mine. Sweetheart, I’m possessive and unreasonable—you won’t escape me.”

His words made all my fight drain away.

I lay pressed against his chest, afraid to move even a muscle.

I could feel exactly how my body was affecting Vincent

4/11

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―he was hard, and there was no hiding it.

When I stayed quiet, Vincent suddenly grabbed Zain’s black credit card from the shelf. His voice turned

commanding. “Don’t use his card, Blanche. From now on, you use mine.”

I didn’t answer, just kept my hands pressed against myself, trying to maintain what little modesty I had

left.

I kept my back turned, refusing to look at Vincent, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Vincent leaned down and brushed his cheek against mine, his voice rough as he muttered, “So you really don’t want to talk to me, do you?”

I held my breath, not daring to respond.

My whole body went cold and tense as I whispered, “Vincent, can you please step outside? Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

Vincent just smirked, not moving an inch. “Not happening. I’m going to see you eventually anyway–so why not today?”

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Frustration boiled over and I snapped, “Keep this up and I really will scream for help!”

Vincent tossed Zain’s black card into the fitting room trash, locked his fingers back over my stomach, and leaned in to tease my earlobe with his warm lips. “Scream all you want, sweetheart. Everyone out there works for me. Unless I give the word, nobody’s coming

in.”

Rage burned through me. I started to say, “Vincent, you-”

Vincent pulled me even tighter, like he wanted to merge me into his soul. He didn’t let me finish, his tongue teasing the tip of my earlobe as he whispered, voice husky and almost pleading, “Please, Blanche- just let me hold you a little longer.”

I mumbled in a low, defeated voice, “But you’ve already been holding me for over ten minutes.”

Vincent just chuckled, sounding both possessive and tender. “Ten minutes is nothing. I want you in my arms for a lifetime–never letting go, not even for a second.”

I sighed quietly, my heart helpless and tangled, but I

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stayed silent.

Seeing I wouldn’t respond, Vincent leaned in and murmured against my ear, “Let me sleep for a bit,

Blanche.”

His voice came out hoarse and deep, carrying

exhausted charm.

I couldn’t help but worry. I blurted out, “What happened?”

Vincent answered, “Didn’t sleep at all last night.”

Remembering what Zain said this morning, I looked at him, puzzled. “Did you really steal Zain’s business deals?”

Vincent didn’t try to hide it–he just said, cool as ever,

“Yeah.”

I frowned, confused. “Why?”

Vincent replied, “For you.”

I froze–understanding the meaning behind his words.

That shut me up fast.

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After a moment, I tried again, barely above a whisper, “Vincent, can you let me go now?”

Vincent cut me off, dead serious. “No. I want you in my arms while I sleep.”

I frowned, slightly annoyed. “Vincent, this is a shopping mall–how can you possibly sleep here?”

Vincent gave a confident grin. “It’s my mall. I can sleep anywhere I want–as long as you’re with me.”

He let most of his weight settle onto me, and I realized I couldn’t handle much more.

I spoke up, a little helpless. “Let’s go to the car

instead.”

Vincent’s eyes lit up at that. “The car, huh? You want to ‘sleep‘ in the car?”

He was obviously implying more than just sleep, but I pretended not to catch it.

I just nodded, keeping my voice steady. “Yeah, let’s go sleep in the car.”

Vincent knew I was just deflecting, but he couldn’t

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help letting out a low, teasing chuckle.

After his quiet laugh, he finally turned away and said, “Alright, get dressed.”

Panic shot through me when I realized Vincent had no intention of leaving the fitting room.

But I knew arguing was useless, so I started putting my clothes back on behind him, moving as quickly and quietly as possible.

Vincent didn’t turn around, but the soft rustling of my clothes behind him completely scrambled his thoughts

-his mind was chaos.

Even without seeing me, his imagination was painting a thousand sinful pictures.

My collarbone, my chest, my belly button, my waist- every inch of me.

All of me.

Just having me there, Vincent felt like I was pure opium–deadly, addictive, impossible to resist. I was the kind of forbidden drug that could destroy him with a single taste.

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It didn’t take long for me to get dressed. When I finally turned around, I found Vincent still standing with his

back to me.

I’d been certain he would try to steal a glance, but to my surprise, he never once tried to peek.

For a moment, out of nowhere, it felt like a giant fist squeezed my heart tight, leaving me a bit stunned.

Shaking it off, I lowered my voice and said, “Vincent, I’m finished changing.”

At my words, Vincent finally turned around. The second his eyes landed on my face, he just stopped cold, completely stunned. “You…”